


Let the Only Sound be the Overflow

by blueabsinthe, boltschick2612



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, HC Slovan Bratislava, Language Kink, M/M, Phone Sex, Surprises, Syracuse Crunch, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Don't let this line go slack/ I want to bring you back to where I know you ...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Only Sound be the Overflow

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because of [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/6ed044bb4ce04aadd299c6fe3b774829/tumblr_mnnh7iP3Hp1sqo5c8o1_500.png). The rest, as they say, is history.
> 
> Takes place during Game 2 of the AHL Eastern Conference Playoffs (Sunday, May 26, 2013), where Tyler Johnson took a knee-on-knee hit and didn't finish the game.
> 
> Title is lyrics from the Florence + the Machines song, _What the Water Gave Me_. Summary from the Vienna Teng song, _Transcontinental, 1:30 AM_.

_Dude, stop touching me. Fuck off. Get the fuck off me._

The words keep echoing in Tyler's mind, over and over, but they never make it any further. As much as Tyler wants to say those exact words, and maybe some more, to the man who was for all intents and purposes carrying him down the hallway, he couldn't. It's not Pat's fault Tyler's leg feels like it's been run over by a Zamboni, and Tyler knows this. He also knows without the help of the team's backup goalie, there was no way he'd be able to walk the long tunnel leading back to the locker room. Still, it doesn't stop him from silently wishing for the sharp pain in his knee to go away, and for everyone else to go to hell.

Okay, maybe not everyone. Maybe just whoever was responsible for the knee on knee hit that currently had him limping off the ice, clinging to a teammate for support. Tyler's trying to remember the name of the Penguins player he had collided with, trying to picture the bold letters spelling it out on the back of his jersey, but it's an exercise in futility. With the searing, burning pain shooting through his leg, Tyler is lucky he can even remember his own name.

It all happened so fast. The time it took for Tyler to go from 'skating to the bench for a line change' to 'skating to the locker room, doubled over in pain' seemed like less than a second, and all it took was an awkward hit from an opposing player. The hit was bone jarring, but not intentional. As a matter of fact, Tyler is almost sure he saw the other guy skating off towards his own bench as well, but, he couldn't think about that right now. He has to focus all his attention on making it to the locker room, preferably without letting anyone else see just how much pain he's really in. He keeps telling himself to think positive, to think of finally getting to sit down, with about thirteen million ice bags on his leg. Oh, and finally getting a minute alone to call Jaro.

Those thoughts seem to carry him down the hallway, and before he knows it, Tyler is sitting on the bench in front of his locker stall with Brad, the team's athletic trainer, crouched in front of him and examining his knee. Tyler tries to avoid the man's gaze, and fights back a wince, biting at his lower lip, as Brad manually bends and flexes his knee. Tyler's grip on the edge of the bench is so tight, it turns his knuckles white, and his vision momentarily blurs as the pain shoots through his entire body. He counts to ten, waiting for the pain to subside, and finally, it does. Tyler slowly opens his eyes and looks down to see that his knee doesn't look nearly as swollen or bruised as he had expected, and oh, when had Brad removed his skate, shin pads, and hockey socks?

After a few more cautious and slightly less painful manipulations of Tyler's knee, and after Tyler's leg had been iced and wrapped to both his and Brad's satisfaction, Brad slowly stands.

"All right, bud. You'll live," he chuckles as he looks down at Tyler, and gives him a hearty slap on the shoulder. He then turns and retreats, leaving Tyler alone in the empty locker room. As the pain in his knee starts to subside, Tyler begins to feel a little bit guilty for all the less than proper thoughts that swirled in his mind as he trudged towards the locker room, and he's thankful mind reading is an inane possibility.

When he finally feels like he can stand, Tyler slowly moves to strip the last of his gear off, which he's finding harder than expected. He then hobbles over to where his gym bag is thrown on the bench, zips it open, and pulls out a change of clothes. A small smile curls around the corners of his lips the second his fingers touch the soft fabric of the old Norfolk Admirals shirt. The shirt is ragged from seasons of being worn under hockey gear, and unbelievably soft, but that's not why Tyler still keeps it. To the outside world, it looks like just another shirt someone might keep from their old hockey team, and that's exactly the point. While Tyler had one such shirt just like this one hanging in his closet, this one was different. This one was Jaroslav's, and despite the fact Tyler slept in it nearly every night and had washed it more times than he can remember, it still held Jaro's smell.

Tyler pulls it out of the bag, and slowly slips it over his head, relishing in the feeling of the soft fabric sliding over his skin. A million memories flow over Tyler in that instant; memories of skating around the ice and raising the Calder Cup, right beside Jaro, right beside his best friend. Memories of the first time they had slept together, and the look that flashed in Jaro's dark eyes as he fell apart. He shakes the fog from his brain, and pulls the rest of his things from the gym bag. After digging for his cell phone, Tyler finds it buried underneath his shorts. He drags it out and sets it down on the bench, then gingerly slips into the shorts, finding it far less painful than he had expected.

His knee still hurts, but changing into some more comfortable clothing did wonders for Tyler's mood. He has no doubt that whatever negative demeanour he has left, can be taken care of easily enough. He sits down heavily on the bench, and immediately regrets it when a fresh wave of pain courses through his body. It's not as sharp, and definitely not as strong as it was before, but it's enough to make him pause for a few seconds before reaching for his phone. Once he finally has the device in his hand, all he can think about is calling the one person who can make everything alright again.

Tyler unlocks his phone, then presses and holds down number two on the keypad, using the speed dial option. If Tyler were ever pressed to come up with Jaroslav's phone number on his own, he probably wouldn't be able to do it. He had programmed the digits into his phone what seemed like ages ago, and has never had to dial the number from memory. Tyler lets out a heavy sigh, trying to forget the night's earlier events, and presses the phone to his ear. His heart is nearly pounding out of his chest, and his pulse speeds up a little with every shrill ring that passes with no answer. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jaroslav's thick voice comes on the line.

"Hey, _dieťa_."

Tyler tries to sound stern, he really does, but it's nearly impossible with the large smile that's creeping to his lips. "Don't call me that, JJ."

There's a stiff silence for a few moments, and Tyler can hear the sounds of pans and kitchen utensils clanging in the background, followed by what sounds like Jaroslav digging through a cabinet, possibly looking for something. Tyler then hears him mutter something under his breath. He can't tell what it is, but it's in Slovakian, and judging by the tone, Jaroslav is having a hard time finding whatever it is he's looking for. Tyler knows the throbbing pain in his knee is partially responsible for him not being able to come up with the local time in Slovakia. He surmises, it may possibly be around lunchtime? Or dinner. Either way, Jaro must have been trying to make something to eat when Tyler called. He hears a loud sigh, followed by Jaroslav's voice coming back on the line.

"So ... s'bad?"

Tyler absolutely loves that about Jaroslav, how he'll sometimes run words into one another. He's so wrapped up in it, that it takes him a few seconds to even realize what Jaroslav was talking about. Oh, yeah. His knee.

"Um. No," Tyler says, trying his best to sound confident. It won't do any good to worry his boyfriend, not when he's so far away, and powerless to help.

"Ty, I'm listening to the game. Don't bullshit me."

Tyler slowly bends his knee a couple times, flexing it cautiously, and he finds the sharp stabbing has died down to a dull throb.  His heart catches in his throat, because as much as Tyler wants to get back on the ice, he has to admit to the truth. "I'm done for the night."

"I wish I could be there."

"Me too. You always know how to make me feel better."

"I'll be there soon, baby. Don't worry."

"Not soon enough."

"If I could jump on a plane tonight, I would. I'm sorry, Ty. I wish I could help."

Tyler's leg is starting to ache again, and he stands to try and stretch it out. He does a few circles around the locker room, before he starts to hobble - not putting any pressure on his knee - towards the team's weight room. The idea doesn't fully formulate in Tyler's mind until he's about halfway to the door of the weight room. Driven completely on impulse, Tyler finds himself crossing over the threshold into the empty room, then pushing the door shut behind him, and sliding the lock shut with a sharp click.

"I know a way you can."

Tyler hears Jaro's laughter as it filters through the phone, and he lets his eyes flutter shut as he recalls desperate images of Jaro. He remembers the nights spent curled up in Jaroslav's arms. The heated touches, the kisses, and the countless times he would straddle his lap on the couch. Tyler can almost hear Jaroslav's breathing grow heavy as he remembers grinding down against him, his movements eliciting low groans from Jaroslav. 

Tyler is so caught up in his memories he almost doesn't hear Jaro's voice through the phone. "Feeling adventurous, I take it."

"Come on, JJ," Tyler urges, as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. He slides a hand down the front of his shirt, stopping when he reaches the waistband of his shorts. His hair is mussed, and damp with sweat. 

"When have I ever denied you of anything?" Jaroslav's tone is teasing, a slight drawl colouring the edges. 

Tyler bites on his bottom lip, as he sneaks his fingertips past the waistband of his shorts. "Are you really wanting an answer to that question now?" He tucks his phone between his shoulder and cheek, and runs the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip as Jaroslav gives an amused laugh. 

" _Na čo myslíte_?" 

"Hm?" Tyler swears all the blood in his body rushes to his groin as Jaro's low voice hits his ear. It's almost enough for Tyler to imagine Jaroslav is in the room with him, his chest pressed to his back, his hands sliding down his sides. 

"What are you thinkin' about?" Jaro translates in a low, sensual drawl. 

Tyler groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, his eyes sliding shut a few moments later. "Oh, uh, y'know, you … me."

Jaroslav laughs, and Tyler can almost feel his warm breath tickle his neck. He can imagine Jaro's face, his infectious smile lighting up his dark eyes. "You … me, huh?" Jaro says blithely. "Tell me more, _dieťa_."

"Jesus fuck, JJ," Tyler says, "could you, like, try for, oh, I dunno, a couple minutes to not sound so fucking hot when you call me that?" He slides a hand under his shirt, his fingers grazing over his nipples. "Seriously, JJ. You should come with a warning."

"There's a thought," Jaro returns, tone teasing. " _Chýbaš mi_."

Tyler closes his eyes, the images of Jaro's hands against his skin seem to take him over. For a brief moment, the only sound Tyler can hear is white noise as it rushes past his ears. The cloud of want and need is like a thick fog, and it takes everything in his power to claw his way through it so he can focus on Jaro's low voice on the phone. "God, you're so mean, JJ," he whines. "I wish - I just - fucking hell, I wish you were here."

He can almost see the smile twisting Jaroslav's lips as his voice spills through the receiver. "I know, _dieťa_ , I know … " 

Tyler brushes his hand over the front of his shorts, before he settles his hand against his thigh, his breathing unsteady as he thinks about Jaroslav in his tiny apartment, his hand inching down his torso. His movements slow, precise, like he is waiting for Tyler.

"Are you as hard as I am right now?" Tyler manages to get out, as he raises his hand back to his mouth, dipping his fingers into his mouth, wetting the digits, before he slides them down his body and curls them around his cock. 

Tyler can hear Jaro's ragged breathing, and he bites down on his bottom lip as he presses his thumb against the head of his dick, smearing the pre-come down his shaft. He arches his back against the wall, and pulls at his cock again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck … JJ."

He hears as Jaroslav lets out a string of curse words, and Tyler can hear the unmistakeable sound of clothing hitting the floor. He knows Jaroslav purposely made sure he heard him stripping out of his clothes. This thought causes his cock to twitch, and he moans, his voice low and hoarse. "Fucking hell, JJ … I can almost picture it now. You're standing in your kitchen with your hand on your cock, right? God, I'm so fucking hard for you, but you know that already, don't you?"

"Fuck, Ty …" Jaroslav says, voice breathy, and a few pitches higher than normal. Tyler hears Jaro moan, and he slides his hand over his length, eyes screwed tightly shut. 

"I wish I could watch you touch yourself," Tyler whispers. "Seeing you all hard for me. I swear to god, it's the hottest thing ever. Your hand moving over yourself, your dark eyes locked on mine. God, I could come just by that image alone."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ty," Jaro gasps, his voice catching on Tyler's name. "You make it so damn easy."

"For you I'm _always_ easy." Tyler nearly bites his lip in two, as he increases his strokes, pulling hard and fast at his cock, feeling heat spread down his spine. "I wish you were here so you could … so you could just fucking take _me_."

"I'd take you in _pieces_ , if I was there, Ty," Jaro practically growls.

Tyler has his free hand pressed against the wall to steady himself as he feels his legs shake, threatening to give out on him at any moment. "Fuck, JJ, don't you fucking stop …"

" _Možno mi tvojich úst sa odrieknuť, možno mi ruky nedostať … možno mi v diaľky žiaľne utieknuť … možno mi nemilým ostať, možno mi ústam smädom umierať … možno mi žialiť v samote, možno mi život v púšťach zavierať … Možno mi nežiť v živote …_ "

"Fucking hell," Tyler gasps, his mouth open in a silent scream. He arches against the wall before he spills hotly over his fingers, pathetic little whimpers escaping his mouth as his hand milks every last drop from his cock.

" _Možno mi seba samého zhubiť: - nemožno mi ťa neľúbiť …_ " Jaro finishes, before Tyler hears Jaro's breathing go erratic and ragged. "Tyler …" 

The sound of his name falling from Jaro's lips is like a gut shot, and Tyler swears he could come again just by hearing Jaro's thick voice echo in his ear.

Soft, breathy laughter infiltrates Tyler's buzzing thoughts, and it takes him a few moments to catch on to where he is still standing. The dull, throbbing pain in his knee seems to have eased slightly, and he shifts his phone. The impersonal plastic a reminder just how much distance separated them.

"Jaro?" Tyler whispers.

"Still here, _dieťa_."

"I wish," Tyler says, placing emphasis on the word 'wish'.

"Soon," Jaro promises. " _Chýbaš mi_. Miss you."

The two simple words cling like condensation against a fogged up mirror. They weigh heavily on Tyler's heart, but he forces himself to smile, despite knowing Jaro can't see him. "I miss you too."

Tyler sighs, and is about to hang up, when the sound of Jaroslav's voice stops him. "Hm?"

"Where do y'keep your can opener?"

It takes a few minutes for the words to register in Tyler's brain. "Say what?"

Jaroslav's laughter warms Tyler to the core. "I'd hurry home if I were you, Ty."

**Author's Note:**

> The lines Jaroslav doesn't get around to translating to Tyler is a stanza from the 19th century poem _Marina_ , by Andrej Sladkovic, and it translates as:
> 
> I can deny myself your mouth,  
> I can refrain from your hands,  
> I can escape into dolorous far-aways,  
> I can turn into a despised,  
> I can wilt my mouth with thirst,  
> I can grieve forsaken,  
> I can seclude my life in deserts,  
> I can un-live my life,  
> I can exterminate myself,  
> I cannot do anything but love you.
> 
> \---
> 
> You can also find us on tumblr:  
> [blueabsinthe](http://blueabsinthe18.tumblr.com)  
> [boltschick2612](http://boltschick2612.tumblr.com)


End file.
